


The Farm

by Servena



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, Smoking, Talk about the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 03:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16966863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Servena/pseuds/Servena
Summary: “I’ve been thinking about buying a farm”, Babe says one day as they’re sitting behind the shell of a bombed-out building sharing a cigarette.





	The Farm

“I’ve been thinking about buying a farm”, Babe says one day as they’re sitting behind the shell of a bombed-out building sharing a cigarette.

Gene takes his time answering, blowing out the smoke before he hands the cigarette back. Babe can’t help but watch him, there’s something mesmerizing about Gene smoking, like he has all the time in the world despite Gene being one of the busiest people Babe knows.

“You don’t know shit about farming”, Gene finally says. His voice is dry, but there’s a hint of amusement in the corners of his mouth.

“Not really”, Babe admits freely. “Been a city boy all my life. But I don’t know if I wanna go back to that.” Gene doesn’t say anything, so he keeps talking. He has a way of doing that, of drawing people out simply by being silent. Babe guesses that’s why Gene knows so much about them while they know so very little of him. “I just… l’d like some peace and quiet, you know? Don’t know if I could deal with all the noise now.”

“Yeah”, Gene says and nods slowly, and Babe feels understood without having to say anything else. Another one of Gene’s talents, he muses as he takes a drag of the cigarette. As he hands it back their fingers brush together. They’ve been doing that a lot lately, and it always sends a tingle up his spine, a promise of all the things that could happen as soon as they could find a place with a little more privacy.

They don’t talk about it, that thing they’re having. And it was alright, it was comfortable, but now the end of the war is looming over them like a shadow and Babe has been growing restless, because he had a feeling that the only good thing he had for the last couple of years is about to slip through his fingers.

“So I’d like a farm”, he continues. “Somewhere nice and quiet. You know, with pretty flowers and a guard dog and all that. I’ll name him Terry.”

Gene chuckles lowly. It’s a nice sound, and Babe files it away in his memory, just in case. “Have you ever been on a farm?” he asks, amusement now clearly audible in his voice.

Babe has to think about that for a moment. “Maybe not. But I’ve read about them.”

Gene shakes his head in exasperation. “You’re gonna go under in less than six months.”

“Yeah, about that.” He can feel his heart pick up the pace in his chest and wills himself to stay calm. “What do you know about farming?”

Gene throws him a glance and Babe tries to keep his face from showing his excitement. He’s not sure he’s succeeding, but Gene shrugs before he says: “My grandparents did a bit of farming. You know, vegetables in the garden, always had a cow and some chickens. Nothing they could live off, but it helped. I used to help them out as a kid when my grandfather was away.”

“So you know more than I do”, Babe says brightly. There’s an edge to his voice and he’s pretty sure Gene can hear it, too.

“Guess so”, Gene says. “You gonna give that back?” He motions at the cigarette that’s uselessly burning down between Babe’s fingers.

He startles and hastily hands it over. “Yeah, sure, sorry.”

He watches as Gene puts it between his lips and breathes in, then keeps the smoke in his lungs for a moment before blowing it out into the cool air. The cigarette is burnt down to almost a stub, and he knows that if he doesn’t ask now, he might not get another change anytime soon.

“Gene.” He swallows because his voice doesn’t sound like his own. “You wanna buy a farm with me?”

Gene stares at him for a moment, cigarette completely forgotten in his hand. Then he shakes his head. “Now you’ve gone crazy.” He’s silent for a moment, but this time Babe isn’t eager to fill it, instead letting it stretch on until Gene says: “Thought you were gonna find yourself a pretty wife.”

Babe laughs. It sounds slightly hysterical. “I’m not really looking for a pretty wife.”

Gene nods slowly. Then he asks: “Why me?” There is that frown again, those wrinkles between his eyebrows that appear anytime Gene is even slightly worried.

“Are you kidding?” Babe makes some gestures with his hands to try to encompass what he can’t put into words. “In case you didn’t notice, I kinda like you.” He can already feel the heat creeping into his face despite the cold. “Besides, I need someone to save me from myself”, he adds hurriedly.

Gene nods like that makes sense. Then he flicks the cigarette stub into the dirt and gets up. There’s a rush of panic in Babe’s stomach, but then Gene turns to face him and says: “I’ll think about it.”

“Really?” He sounds breathless, like he just ran Currahee (three miles up, three miles down), and it should be pathetic, but he really doesn’t care right now.

“Yeah.” He sounds serious and there’s even a hint of a smile around Gene’s eyes. “But I gotta go now.”

“Okay. Okay! See ya later!” He watches Gene disappear into the direction of the aid station, hands in his pockets and shoulders pulled up against the cold wind.

Then he settles down again, takes a deep breath, and lights another cigarette.


End file.
